


Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines

by darktea_27



Series: Two Songs of Despair and Two Songs To Mend It Back [1]
Category: The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, nightless city
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:34:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18843733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darktea_27/pseuds/darktea_27
Summary: The bloodbath in Nightless City when Wei Wuxian lost control through the eyes of Lan WangjiNow coming withRussian TranslationbyAlinaricet9





	Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the same title of Pablo Neruda's poem. Anddd, this is my first time writing WangXian fic so if there is OOC someone can tell me where it is nicely (*´﹀`*). English is not my first language. Please enjoy!
> 
>  

i. the night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance

"A-Xian, you..you stop this first."

From the distance, in the midst of what looks like the second bleak night in Nightless City, Lan Wangji saw the quiver in Wei Wuxian's lips. His hand wavered while holding his sister's hand. To witness the one and only person who could get through Wei Wuxian's control of army corpses, how his heart ached to be able doing the same. 

The breath of rows and rows of cultivators who caged the demonic cultivator that has been held was released once the vice grip of corpses loosening. He wanted to stride, to run - running is prohibited in Cloud Recesses, but now not in there, and hold the person who could paint Lan Wangji's life in technicolor, bright and vivid; alive with his laughter and mischievous spirit.

But fate was a fickle thing, one time it was as good as the first bloom of spring buds, and the next it was the flood that broke the dam, said the dam was the man claded in red and black robes, hair falling like starless night but never less than beautiful. The sword came too fast, not even his enhanced senses could detect its first trajectory, once the wind changed, it was too late. 

Blood flew like the tears down on Wei Wuxian's cheeks. Glittered on the sun-kissed face which shrouded in disbelief and terror. The wrath came instantly, if wrath could be the anger disguised in sadness that was too palpable in his grey eyes, Lan Wangji's heart clenched and cracked. 

"WEI WUXIAN, YOU SAID YOU CAN CONTROL IT!"

Wasn't that the fear he ever said to the brothers, wasn't that the worry he ever offered to the sect leader. But revenge was red neon target that blurred the other reasons and pleas. Rather than appease the resentment, the revenge fueled, provoked, and held it in higher regards than the sunken of his eyes, the scrawny body under drowning robes, and the paler skin. He wanted to shake Jiang Wangyin and said that this was your fault too. This was your responsibility too.

This was not supposed to happen. It was clear Jiang Yanli acted herself as shield to the sword swung by the angry man to Wei Wuxian's back. But nobody listens, with opened eyes but closed ears, his fate was sealed as a villain.

"Wei Ying!", he shouted as loud as he could, wished it could break, wished it could hug him and shield him from all of these accusations and prejudices. But Wei Wuxian didn't budge an inch, didn't even recognize anything but his shijie laying down with red oozing beneath her limp body like red geraniums spreading in the very barren desert. 

The Stygian Tiger Seal, his lethal invention who brought shame to Wen's sect, now turned its course to the people who ever rejoiced its existence. Corpse upon corpse ran rampant like the unleashed beasts without his mercy. 

'We are already so close, Lan Zhan!'  
'We aren't'

One step forward he took was hit back three steps backward by the undead. And the distance never been this far, as far as the spoken words he longed to differ. 

ii. How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Long, long time ago, where war never robbed his secluded father, his comrades, his object of affection - the laughter rang like bells, the never ending teasing, the eyes which color was dark but always be the brightest when he was so happy, so roguish, and so clever -- that clever mouth and clever brain; Long, long time ago, where the mere thing hindered him from acting out his feelings to Wei Wuxian was only him and his hesitation. 

And now, now amidst of throngs of corpses and irate cultivators, his blazing grey eyes glinted by red, sung the melody only the undead knew, stared at him like he never knew him. Like he never called his birthname with that titling of his teasing voice and playful smirk on his face. 

"I've been known you hate me, HanGuang-Jun!"  
And he should have understood, how his appearance looked like in Wei Wuxian's eyes --- robes stained in blood and mud, disheveled, concerned face that could be discerned as stern with Bichen held in tight grip to fight the corpse; he should have dropped Bichen, should have dropped on his knees, begged, begged, and begged him to stop, to come with him, to wherever he wanted as long as he would be safe and sound. 

But his words would never be enough to convey what his heart wanted.

"Wei Ying!"  
"Lan Wangji! So you come to kill me!"

He flinched as if the words itself who came to kill him. Not for today, not for the night the first time he saw him, not forever, even in the darkness he would never hurt Wei Wuxian. It was written in his very molecule being, the urge to protect Wei Wuxian; it was born with him in his very deep of marrow bone, the love his heart pumped for Wei Wuxian. 

But his words would never be enough to crack the armor of his wrath or to disperse the depth of his sadness.

'Lan Zhan, look at me, why don't you look at me?'

iii. To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

The undead roared in the back of his mind yet he kept dragging his tired body and aching heart to hold Wei Wuxian. In the better time, he wouldn't snatch the demonic cultivator like doll; in the better time, he wouldn't fight him with his sword raised against him. But what they said was true, desperate time called for the desperate measurement. Wei Wuxian's body sagged against him once he put both of them on Bichen and took a flight from the bloodbath.

He tried to keep his single-minded action to save Wei Wuxian although his sight never erase the horror in Nightless City. It was like a scorch on his retina: how Wei Wuxian lost control, how the fallen hand of Jiang YanLi from Wei Wuxian's face reminded him of hopeless time and lonely visit to his mother's cottage, how everything could be empty yet crowded at the same time. He tightened his grip on Wei Wuxian's back, afraid that if he blinked he would go again to the places Lan Wangji couldn't follow.

They took haven on the small cave near Yiling, the silence of the forest surrounded him never been this loud before. Wei Wuxian's body was feverish and his eyes no longer that bright he recognized but dimmed and unperceived. As he wiped his face, Lan Wangji tried to transfer spiritual energy to Wei Wuxian. Yet, before so much he could do, Wei Wuxian pulled his hand harshly with panic eyes and ragged breath. 

"Get lost!" 

He pulled his hands back as if that the only lifeline he needed.

"Wei Ying, I am here."  
"Get lost!"

He kept his bloodied hands close to his white-robed chest for what words failed him, his wish to his rebel heartbeat wouldn't.

"Get lost!"  
"Wei Ying, I love you."

A slight emotion sparked on his grey eyes but it dropped as fast as the tears running on his face, again. Wei Wuxian shrugged his hands off from Lan Wangji's as if the touch burnt him. He leaned backward to the stone while holding his arms on his own body and shaking his head stubbornly. 

"Get lost.."

Words no longer biting but the rejection still hurting Lan Wangji. Before he could get Wei Wuxian back to his arms, the rustle and voices were heard from outside of the cave. Glanced through the illuminated cave by fire talismans, it was his brother and several elders that he believed more than his fingers combined. 

Life was full of choices and what you chose would never have a room for regret. He could never let anyone hurt Wei Wuxian, not him, not their brothers, not his sect, not the whole world. Although the decision pained him, with his eyes closed and hands binded, with world burned in fire and ocean raged in ice, he would always choose Wei Ying. Always. 

He shed his outer robe and let it enveloped Wei Wuxian's body, for a while he indulged himself in tucking his stranded hair behind his ear. In Wei Wuxian's vehement rejection, he couldn't find any ounce in him that unloved this man. Not even maggots in his casket would take this love away from him to Wei Wuxian. With his heart heavy on his chest, he kissed Wei Wuxian's forehead gently with clarity in his mind and Bichen in his hold. 

"I love you, Wei Ying."

But the words were forgotten while the love remembered.

iv. And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture

Thirty-three discipline whipping on his back for the same amount elders fell under his sword did not give a single remorse to him. Was this what Wei Ying felt when he saved the remnants of Wen's sect? 

One single kiss on the forehead for the same amount it bestowed to a person did give him longing so forcefully, he wondered how he could breath still. Was this what love felt when the significant one couldn't be saved? 

It felt like thousands of turbulence and trial sent by Heaven wouldn't stagger him an inch yet his teary eyes and pale cheeks could weaken his knees to submission. 

He hoped that Wei Ying came back safely to the bowel of Burial Mounds, he hoped he was stronger than this -- than the bedridden body, lack of spiritual body and physical strength, he intensely hoped anyone, anyone at all would help Wei Wuxian -- to clean his face, to change his robes, to lay him down, to stay safe when he couldn't.

Jingshi never been this cold. Never been this sorrowful it could be compared to the Burial Mounds in its glorious days as a desolate place. His eyes stared straight to Bichen as if by mere inner will it could go to Yiling and fight all the bad things that would harm Wei Ying. His breath was loud and his heart was a misery. 

The door of Jingshi opened and it revealed Lan Xichen in its wake. 

"Brother.."

He should be able to bring himself hate for making his brother sad and disappointed. The warm eyes and ever - smiling face were devoid of emotion but worry. The dread climbed into his back and gripped his neck in deadlock. Lan Xichen's face looked similar to someone in the past. Not the face itself but the expression. And his heart stopped when he recognized what it was.

"Brother.."  
"Wangji, Wei Wuxian is gone.."

And the world crumbled around him while his lost was the only thing remained on it.

**Author's Note:**

> Tonight I can write the saddest lines.  
> To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.  
> To hear the immense night, still more immense without her  
> And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.  
> What does it matter that my love could not keep her  
> The night is shattered, and she is not with me.
> 
> \--- (Pablo Neruda)
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated ( *¯ ³¯*)♡


End file.
